Write a short story where the first sentence includes the word "red." The first sentence of all the subsequent paragraphs have to include a new colour. You are only allowed to use the colour word once in each paragraph, but must suggest it in as many ways as possible. E.g.
The world had turned grey. Nothing but mud and asphalt surrounded
the unpainted house, little more than a box made of concrete blocks.
Charlie, dressed in faded work pants, rubber boots, and a thick wool
sweater,
steadied himself with a hand on the top rail of a weathered cedar fence.
Behind him, nothing but ash-coloured sky, bare trees, and plumes of
smoke belching from the factory in the distance. A
lone sparrow rested on a branch, one beady eye watching.
The red star shone down like the eye of a malevolent god. It could be seen in the day, it's crimson glare dulled by the sun. But I knew it was there, watching the world below.
ReplyDeleteThere came a day early in winter, when the sun had set, and yet the sea still radiated with orange opalescence. It was not the xanthous chroma of the dying solar orb. It was a sickly, pale colour, bereft of life and warmth. On that night, most stayed in their homes behind shuttered windows and barred doors, yet the light filtered in insidiously through the thinnest of cracks.
Where it struck the flame of a candle or lantern, the bright flare turned an icteric yellow. The shadows gained a tenebrousness like the darkness at the bottom of the Abyss, wherein great Abbadon sits on a throne of restless locusts, awaiting the end of the world. People sat awake in their beds, holding ailing candles against the night. The light spread across floor and wall, impervious to their attempts to deter it, feeding on their fear. But just when it seemed it must surely strike, it dispersed.
The world awoke to the green land they remembered turned a dreadful monochrome. The verdant fields, once filled with the fruits of mankind's agricultural labours, were now the grey of old ash. The young corn that had brightened the countryside for miles around had withered and died, crumbling to dust and scattered on the thin wind blowing off the sea. A desolation surrounded the town, a blighted wasteland of achromatic dust shifting on the slightest zephyr.
Light streamed in through the pink-tinted, stained-glass windows of the church, where people had flocked to seek solace out redemption from the young priest, whose white-knuckled hands were gripped tightly around his black-bound bible. The congregation assembled before him were silent, waiting, expectant. They stared into his eyes with bated breath, wringing hands, clutching children to their breasts. What was this star, and what did it entail? The priest did not know, but told them to trust in God, and seek his blessing while time allowed.
The sky and ocean were a pure blue the next morning. Sitting amid the cerulean splendour, reflected in the rolling azure expanse below, was the star. The night before, an elderly lamplighter claimed to have heard a noise. When he investigated, he found a stream of rats fleeing the town, pouring in streams down the main road. The fishermen returned with empty nets. Young Stevens, who was known to have more money than sense, fled along the east road in his motorcar. The people who watched him go were shocked when he appeared five minutes later, coming back along the west road with a wild look in his eyes. He claimed to have crossed the hill, only to find himself approaching the town once again. The road out led in.
The next day, the sky was the deep purple of night. The sun had fled, abandoning the folk to their fate. Filled with dread, people huddled in the church, to scared even to talk as never-ending darkness fell around them. Candles would not light. People began to die. Silently, simply breathing their last and collapsing without a sound. They fell, as though taken by the Reaper's scythe, when the vermilion light passing through the windows made contact with their mortal flesh. The priest was the last to fall, his body slumping against the altar, eyes fixed on the star.
They say, if you go to a certain place and stand on the green hillside and gaze out to where the blue ocean turns purple on the horizon when the yellow of the setting sun spreads an orange iridescence on the ocean, you can catch a brief flash. For a split second, you may be able to catch a glimpse of red, as the sun is replaced by a star, like the dead eye of a creature more ancient, and more evil, than men can possibly imagine.